Troubled Souls 1416
by thedorkygirl
Summary: Max has died . . . or has she? Okay you know what? I wrote this BEFORE the finale, so it isn't a knockoff. In fact, its all me, all the time! So just ignore the finale and remember I wrote this. If the DA writers insist on stealing my ideas, so be it!
1. .00 -- Prelude

Yes, yes, yes. I know. Another fic from Keren. Does this girl ever stop, you say? No, she doesn't. So, just remember this. Know that I'll write a lot of shorts. But, also know that I write a lot of others that aren't shorts. :) Read Part of Being Who I Am and Can't Wait, okay? Those are my others. 

Part .00

Bright eyes empty. They're gone. In a flash. It was an accident that no one could expect. One that she didn't even see coming. Her quick wit is gone. I mean, she was there two seconds ago talking to me. I miss her. She was my best friend.

That idiotic driver. That idiotic drunk driver. That idiotic drunk driver who hit her. Her empty eyes. Those brown eyes. That curly hair. My best friend is gone because of some stupid drunk who stumbled out of a bar and decided to drive himself home.

The driver lived. The two others in the car were thrown out the windshield. Their faces sliced and cut into bits. Both of them died. Only the driver, who still had enough wits fasten a seat belt, lived. The driver lived but the pedestrian who was in a cross walk at the correct time the pedestrian died.

Her blood stained the pavement. The driver hit her and swerved into another car. Luckily, the car was parked. But her blood still stained the dark pavement. Bicyclists stopped and cried for help. Messengers started protesting. Protesting at a death something they couldn't stop! It seems odd, them protesting.

She was just delivering a package. A package. It was simple. Ride your bike, deliver the package, return.

She didn't even notice it coming. She is usually right on top of things. So quick. She was preoccupied, thinking of the dead who she loved.

She's with her dead now, the one she mourns for.


	2. .01 -- The Seventh Day

Max Guavara's memorial service was quiet. Max's cremated remains were scattered at the outskirts of the city. They didn't want her remains to be stolen by anyone from Manticore. Among those invited were Original Cindy, Kendra, Sketchy, Herbal Though, Normal, and Bling. Logan Cale was unable to attend the service. However, during the time of her service, Eyes Only ran several biting reports on drunk driving and bicycle casualties. His ending words, instead of Peace. Out. were Gotta Blaze.  
  
Of course, Bling found Logan passed out in the living room after the services, so the broadcasts were obviously prerecorded. Logan's eyes were bloodshot and he could barely manage to stagger into the bedroom, even with Bling guiding him.  
  
The week after her service, Logan barely moved from his bedroom. If he left at all, it was merely to go to the bathroom or to grab some bread and eat it. Bling came by several times and was unsuccessful in motivating Logan.  
  
Original Cindy, however, was another matter. Her vivacious attitude was present almost as many times as Bling's.   
  
"Look, Logan," she began fiercely on the seventh day, "we all bummed 'cuz our homegirl's dead. The difference between us and you is the fact we don't look like selfish slobs."  
  
That shocked Logan enough to send him into the bathroom for the first shower he had seen in several days. Once more, the well groomed man entered the world of the living and somehow Logan learned to communicate with those around him.  
  
Zack's visits after Max's death were something to be remembered. If one were reading an average account, one would at the moment hear the facts on how they reconciled their differences and became the best of friends. However, one is reading the truth and many times the truth is not what one would like. Both men outwardly blamed the other man and inwardly blamed himself.  
  
In the four years that had passed since the death of Max Guavara, Eyes Only had become even more well known. At that time, it was being broadcast from the Western United States all the way across the country to the Southern States.  
  
Logan Cale was walking with the help of several experimental surgeries. There was stiffness in his legs if he was to hard on himself physically. There were times when he would reach out reluctantly for a cane or a shoulder of a friend.  
  
Original Cindy became one of his best friends. Since that seventh day, four years ago, she began coming to Logan's and helping him out with whatever she could. Which meant she put the b!tch in his broadcasts, which Logan was okay with. Sometimes, as Cindy put it, his broadcasts sounded like a grandfather explaining Algebra to his grandson. They needed to be interesting to keep the attention of the watcher.  
  
His life was almost normal again. He saved widows and small children. The only noticeable difference of the wording in his reports -- the attitude phasing had been done slowly -- was his continuing usage of Gotta Blaze. 


	3. .02 -- Best Boos

"Boo," Original Cindy called out as she walked into the penthouse, "you got dinner ready or am I gonna have to raid the fridge?"  
  
Logan peeked over the refrigerator door. "I've just got to make the salad, can you handle?"  
  
Cindy threw her bag in the closet and fell dramatically on the couch. "I don't think I can last that long . . . oh, yeah, did any of my lickety-chicks call while I was at work?"  
  
"No, Cindy, no calls," Logan finished tossing the salad and got out a few plates. "Oh, but somebody did stop by, she left her digits. They're in your room, on the bedside table."  
  
"Boo, who? Gimme the 411, if you will," Original Cindy walked briskly to her room, which had been the guestroom until her moving in. Then, it had been transformed into a very decidedly Original Cindy room. Posters of various television stars were on the walls and her beside table was cluttered with numbers and address books.  
  
"She was tall, dark haired, green eyes, good figure . . . " Logan ran through the vital statics as he set the table. "It's on top of your green address book," he called out to Original Cindy, who was reviewing her lists and papers filled with numbers with satisfaction.  
  
"Mmm, hmm. Sounds like Joyce. Now that boo is fine, she was a fine lookin' boo, right?" Original Cindy asked from her doorway.  
  
"Yeah, fine," Logan made a face, "but not my type."  
  
"Uh huh, we all know your type is the genetically enhanced," Original Cindy smiled a wicked grin. Logan grinned back after her turning back as she went to put down the pile of paper she was holding. After nearly four and a half years since Max's passing, the bitterness and the pain had gone out of her death and only the happiness remained in her memory.  
  
"That's right," Logan said, sticking out his tongue as she plopped down in her chair. "Can't lower my standards after I've had the best."  
  
"You make it sound like you and Max had something more than best booship and sexual tension," Original Cindy said, seperating the tomatoes from her lettuce leaves. "Nasty things, tomatoes. Why do you put them in?"  
  
"Because I like them," it was a conversation that the two had had many times before, it was a conversation that they would be having over many more salads. "And, because I made it." 


	4. .03 -- That Irish Bastard

Gosh, I really love this chapter. Its one of my best. Hope you all like it. Its the entire story's baseline. Hey, I know, y'all love me. :) I am, however, looking for a beta. I'll say that again. I'M LOOKING FOR A BETA! That means I need YOU! LoL. So, somebody please tell me you'll beta. And don't beta because you want a sneak preview.  
  
If you continually rite lik this and want 2 beta even tho u cant spell and use no grammar dont even try because ill just ignor ur letters after u dont send me back anything ive done it before and will do it again so dont think i wont  
  
  
( . . .write like this and want to beta even though you can't spell and use no grammar. Don't even try because I'll just ignore your letters after you don't send me back anything. I've done it before and will do it again, so don't even think I wont!)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Part .03  
  
The next morning, Logan took a walk down to Jam Pony to get a package delivered and to check up on a source that had requested a meeting with him. Leaving a note for Cindy and Bling to find, Logan was out the door before nine o'clock, a wonderful feat for the man who hadn't known the meaning of the word sunrise until those seven days when he hadn't slept.  
  
Normal was his usual self. Logan doubted whether anything would actually change Normal's outlook on life. Life was to be lived and tolerated, if you took Normal's point of view. Logan knew better. Life was to be experienced with fresh eyes every time she threw something at you. If you didn't grab what you saw, you'd miss it forever.  
  
The source turned up ten minutes late. Logan was just about to forget the whole thing when the woman showed up, gasping for breath. She apologized and explained that her daughter had a project due in school that day so she'd been driven instead of walking.  
  
"When I was a kid, we had buses, but now, its walking or driving, and neither of them are safe. I'm here because I want her safe. Now, your boss, he's the kind of man . . ." the source continued on this vein for some time. Logan let her continue. It relaxed him, talking to sources. It always reminded him how wonderful his life was and how he could change the situation of others.  
  
"Anyway, why I called your line. My husband, God d*mn the lying, cheating, no good b*stard, who's been dead for three months, had lots of papers in his safe." Logan was familiar with this story and the woman's way of talking. Her husband, an important military man, had been abusive of his wife and daughter. He had committed suicide not two days after his wife became a source. The source and her daughter hadn't been present at the funeral, but she made it known that she had invited all twenty or so of his mistresses. Fifteen should up, according to a popular rumor.  
  
"Now, he thought that I didn't know where the safe was or what the combination was, but, let me tell you, I'm smart. I'm the type of person who checks out things and then," the source pulled out a notebook, "write them down. I copied down papers into this little notebook. Now, I don't know but what this might be of some help to you. See, my daughter, Ashton, godd*mn father named her, poor thing, idolizes your boss. She has tapes of your boss, see, and watches them over and over." The source grinned and thought about her daughter, watching the tapes of the broadcasts, taking notes and such. Logan was, again, familiar with the story of Ashton.  
  
"Now, Ash, she says 'Mamia,' that's what she calls me, Mamia. 'Mamia,' she says, 'Eyes Only once mentioned this group called X-5, but he never mentioned them again. Now, on everything else I can find, he mentions things over and over again. But this one day, he mentions the X-5s, then acts as if they drop off the face of the earth. Maybe he can't find no more on them.' Now, me having a good memory, I remember copying down a lot of information about these X-5 peoples. Just reports, like that Irish b*stard had on all those other X-groups from that one jail he did work at. Also, I remember copying down, maybe four, five years ago, this paper about somebody called X-5 332. On this paper, I'm not sure, but I think he's also known as Max -- "  
  
"She," Logan said automatically.  
  
"You know this Max, then?" asked the source, "then I guess this information is not good at all."  
  
"She died about four years ago in a car accident," Logan said, smiling. "I'm sorry. But maybe something else -- "  
  
"This Max person, dead? Not according to the papers that I copied out my husband, that Irish b*stard's, safe. The last papers he put into the safe were about this X-5 332."  
  
The blood drained from Logan's face. "Are you certain?"  
  
"Sure as I killed that b*stard, I'm certain," said the source, with a grin. Logan ignored her comment. "She used to turn up quite frequently, almost constantly in all the papers, in the last three or four years," she opened her notebook. "See here, noncompliant with authority. And here too. Re-in-doctor-a-shun failure. Insubordinate. This here Max person has a temper, too. Lookie here, tried to leave, oh . . . fifty-two times . . . in the last four years. I think she's a prisoner in some jailhouse. See here, says solitary confinement. Here too . . . and here . . . and there . . . used to call her, what was it I called her? Oh yeah, used to call her the troubled soul, because she was always in such problems there. I don't like the jails that my husband did the reports on and likely as not she was probably just tooken in for prostitution or something equally stupid. You certain she died? Maybe she just got carted off to this stupid jailhouse."  
  
"I'm not certain of anything. What's the name of the jailhouse you think she's in?" Logan asked quietly.  
  
"Oh, that thing? Something Greek. Oh yeah, here it is. Gotta translate my shorthand, jus' a sec," the source pulled out another notebook filled with shorthand definitions. "MTCR . . . oh yes, Manticore. That's where she is." 


	5. .04 -- Keep fighting your antichrist

Dudes, here it is. The next chapter. Why did I make you guys wait so long for the chapter if it was finished May 1, during lunch? Hmmm . . . I liked the feedback and I don't want you guys to get used to having me write a bunch on one story very quickly? Yeah, I like that answer . . .  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
Part .04  
  
Instead of the numbing disbelief one might hope for, Logan felt immediate acceptance of the source's words.   
It seemed so obviously -- idiotically, even -- simple. Of course, to make certain that there were no rescue attempts for Max they would fake her death. It was thorough. D*mn them.   
  
For half a second, he wondered who had been cremated and mourned over.  
  
"Thank you, you have no idea how much you have helped me," Logan reached over and shook the source's and before he got up and walked quickly away. It would be best not to stay too long with the woman. He would contact her later; he knew that he'd need to get most of the papers she had.   
  
Stopping about half a block down, Logan reached into his left jacket pocket and withdrew his cellphone. "Normal?" he asked the tiny black phone. "Great, now this is important, okay? Tell Original Cindy to call me. This is about, erm, those tests she had done -- Normal don't get any of her blood on you, hear?"  
  
* * ~ ~ * * ~ ~ * *  
  
Original Cindy was stretched out on the floor, studying the photocopies Logan had gotten from the source. She and Logan had been looking at the papers for three hours. There were literally hundreds of pages copied from the notebook. After looking at the pages for a while, the woman's shorthand became similar to a second language to them. Apparently, the source had gone about once a week to copy the papers -- and it took an entire notebook, even then. Logan was willing to bet that a couple of three day only papers -- that is to say papers where her husband had been the middle man, not the addressee -- had slipped past her system.  
  
"Reindoctrinated . . . unsuccessful . . . insubordinate . . . d*mn, boy, she ain't goin' easy on them! Look at the b!tch of a time she gave them here . . . almost made it," Original Cindy passed him the paper. "So close."  
  
"How could we not have known?" Logan asked.  
  
"Well, boo, when she died, you literally had us steal the corpse and cremate her at your friend's. None of us wanted to see Max without life, so we didn't see the body . . . plus there wasn't time. Thank God you had  
a private memorial service -- which you didn't attend, boo -- done by Herbal. What if 'Deck had gotten wind of the service and raided it or something?"  
  
"We were so careful. It's exactly what Max would have wanted -- and exactly what Lydecker was planning on," Logan said bitterly. "I have to send notice to Zack."   
  
"How 'bout an Eyes Only piece . . . how 'bout . . . . X-5s, the b!tch is back. Leaders of both parties concerned please contact me," Original Cindy gave a great wave of her arm and then dropped it suddenly. "Well?" she  
asked Logan.  
  
"Yeah," Logan picked up some papers. "Let's start on the tape."  
  
At the end of an hour, they had a tape completed. After they pixalated it, Logan and Original Cindy viewed it with satisfaction. The sound was static'd out and sounded perfectly Eyes Only normal. After his introduction finished -- Original Cindy loved his introduction -- Logan began speaking in earnest.  
  
"This is for those in the group known simply as X-5. Four years ago, a woman was taken away from her life. Her family and friends believed X-5 332 to be dead from a horrible car accident. I have recently obtained information telling otherwise. I need the leaders of those who created 332 and took her back, and also those of her group, to contact me. You know exactly how. This is in memory of X-5 332 -- who is alive. Keep fighting your antichrist, 332. We're on our way."   
  
"Too bad you couldn't call her Max, but that's a giveaway for smart norms," Original Cindy remarked. "Bargaining chips are no problem. You got the dirt on them to expose them. Of course, it would mean --"  
  
"Certain death for me," Logan said cheerfully. "Manticore would fall, but many people would hunt me down. But I'm on borrowed time as it is, with all I've done."  
  
"That's right, suga. Can Original Cindy add a part to tell her boo hey?" Original Cindy crossed her arms, something that had worked on everyone she knew except for Logan and Max. As always, Logan ignored the offensive posture.  
  
"When we're sure this is gonna work, you can send one. Now, just put this on superspeed," Logan clicked a button, "and it'll look like a TV sound glitch. Only people with superhearing will be able to slow it down and  
listen to it. Therefore, only Manticores will hear it. Hopefully, Lydecker has kids on hand with television access. If he doesn't contact us, we run my introduction on normal speed and then fast forward the message. That'll catch his attention."  
  
"Yeah, he's got everyone on alert for your broadcasts there, according to these here papers," Original Cindy said. "So, we gonna get our b!tch back?" 


	6. .05 -- Hope

I don't need a beta anymore -- I have three!! Thanks you guys! :)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
Part .05  
  
Apparently, Zack was in the area. Less than a minute after airing the broadcast, Original Cindy answered a call from him. Hanging up, Original Cindy hollered out to Logan, "Boy says he'll be here in fifteen minutes, which, from my experience, means he's twenty minutes away by standard time."  
  
"You know Zack," Logan said, sitting down suddenly in a chair. He felt so very tired and so very worn out. Original Cindy went over to Logan and put her arm around him. "Cindy, I'm scared for her."  
  
"We all scared, boo, and not just for Max. We scared for ourselves," Original Cindy said grimly. "We all scared that Lydecker's gonna pound her a** flat when he realizes we know she's alive. We scared that she'll be hurt, physically, after so much time there. Mostly -- "  
  
"Mostly we scared she'll be hurt mentally," Logan said in a dull, monotonous voice, still managing to put a little humor in his words. Original Cindy gave him a comforting squeeze.  
  
"That's right, boo," she said. "There's nothing we can think of that wont happen. But we got to remember, our boo Max has the power to keep fighting."  
  
"Let's go through those papers and try to figure out where she's being held," Logan said, standing up and getting the folder he had put the papers in.  
  
"Too true," Original Cindy said in agreement. "Our girl obviously isn't being held in the Wyoming area. We just got to figure out which part of th' country she's occupying."  
  
"That's what I think," Logan said, handing her half the papers. "Its just a matter of where."  
  
Logan got a pad of paper and handed about three sheets to Original Cindy, and, settling down with a pack of pens, they worked for five minutes, writing down clues on where they thought Max might have been being held.  
  
During the middle of their work, Logan got up and went to the phone. Pounding the numbers for the voice mail that he had, he listened for the voice that he expected to hear. No new messages greeted him. He went to his computer and programmed the next broadcast in.  
  
At the end of ten minutes, Zack strode into the room. Barely looking up, Original Cindy told him, "Get a piece of paper and a pen, we've got to find out where Max is being held."  
  
Wordlessly, which, as Logan thought, was something of a miracle for Zack, he sat down and got to work. Going through the papers, for a long time all there was to be heard was a soft rustling. Finally, Zack jumped up.  
  
"How did you know?" he asked, almost screaming. "I haven't asked. I thought I would find some information here, but all I can figure out is that she's been alive these past four years. Nothing on how you got the information."  
  
"A source had a husband who recently died and their child loves Eyes Only . . ." Logan began, still working on the papers. Logan had been pleased that Zack had complied so well with Logan and Original Cindy. It didn't surprise him that Zack was nervous. It was comforting, to have Zack so predictable.  
  
"Sedgwick?" Zack asked, picking up the papers.  
  
"Yeah, how'd you know?" Original Cindy answered for Logan, writing down some more information on the sixth piece of paper she'd gotten.  
  
"He's the only one who's died in the past year -- who was married -- that was connected in any way I could figure out with Manticore. Its not many of those men or women that have lives outside work," Zack said, rubbing his hands nervously together.  
  
"You do ya homework," Original Cindy commented.  
  
Zack walked the living room floor restlessly. "What else is there for me to do?"  
  
"Get to work," Logan barked, looking up. "Do you want to find Max or what? You just standing there isn't going to research any information."  
  
Zack looked angrily at Logan, but bit back from saying some biting remark. Sitting back down on his seat, he picked up some papers and once again started copying down information. Original Cindy glanced up irritably at Zack. Logan smiled at the defensiveness that Cindy had for both Logan and Max. The girl had her heart in the right place.  
  
After about an hour more of going through the papers -- complete with several trips by each person to get a new glass of water -- Logan got up and went to the phone.  
  
"What're you doing?" Zack asked, barely moving his head as he continued reading.  
  
"Checking my voicemail," Logan said. "I have to check if Lydecker has contacted me. If not, then I'm going to run my broadcast a third time, only I'll have my introduction on normally, so that he'll notice it."  
  
"What if that doesn't work?" Zack asked, with curiously. Logan shrugged.  
  
"If it doesn't work by the second time, I run the entire broadcast on normal speed. I don't expect to have to go there, but I may," Logan frowned thoughtfully and he listened to his voicemail message.  
  
"Suga, with all the trouble ole Deck has given you, you just might have to," Original Cindy interjected. "No new messages from him?" she asked as Logan went to the computer and started programing the next broadcast, which was scheduled less than three minutes away. Logan nodded mutely, then went back to his chair. "Don't worry, they got men out for you. They'll notice this."  
  
"Let's hope," Zack added cynically. 


	7. .06 -- Bullcrap

Part .06   
  
Lydecker did notice when the broadcast was run a third time. By then, Logan was checking his voicemail at ten minute intervals. The minute he heard Lydecker's voice, ("This is Colonel Lydecker here . . ." came the greeting) Logan gave a sort of strangled yelp and got a pen and paper. Cradling the phone between his head and neck, Logan went over to stop the computer program from running the next broadcast.   
  
Zack and Original Cindy had jumped up at Logan's utterance. At the present moment, they were standing on either side of Logan, watching him press the number two three one on his phone, then put it hurriedly to his ear. Muttering, Logan wrote down the numbers on a pad of paper.   
  
Placing the phone in it's cradle, Logan turned to the expectant faces of Original Cindy and Zack. Smiling a rather sardonic smile, he told them, "Lydecker wants a meeting with us, Zack." Logan turned back to the computer.   
  
Zack shook his head slowly. "It's as much as I expected," he said. "They want to use her as a bargaining chip."   
  
"It wont work, boo," Original Cindy said. "We all know that you've got no spot in the world that'll start you up and squealing."   
  
"You make me sound like a pig in some kind of armor," Zack said dryly.   
  
"Maybe you are, boo," Original Cindy picked up her piece of paper. "While out guy Logan is making arrangements," -- Logan was typing away on the computer, shaking his head -- "you and Original Cindy will put their clues together. This is what she's got . . . snowy . . . something that looks like NMA . . . Normal, she thinks . . . Normal conditions? Wait, it's a place . . . wasn't there a show in the nineties called Normal, Ohio . . . check that out . . . does it snow in Ohio . . . check that out, too . . . "   
  
Zack just stared at her. "You realize that you spoke about a dozen sentences with no real beginning or ending, don't you?" he finally asked in a quiet voice. Original Cindy stared at him.   
  
"Original Cindy thinks its time for her boo Zack to have his nervous breakdown," she said with a very soft smile. Zack turned and left the house. Logan glanced up once before slumping over his chair, head in his hands. "That can wait for tomorrow, boo," Original Cindy said firmly. Logan stared at her for a moment before closing his programs. "Bedtime . . . " her voice was syrupy sweet, just hiding the emotion she felt.   
  
Original Cindy leading the way, Logan somehow got into his room. Original Cindy made certain that the answering machine was on, then went to her room, almost dragging her feet. "This girl has got too much on her feet," she said aloud as she sat down on her bed.   
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
The next morning, Logan was the usual resolute self that Original Cindy knew so well and Zack was the usual asshole that everyone else knew so well. Determinedly, Zack and Original Cindy tried to finish deciphering the clues to Max's location.   
  
Logan, however, was on the phone with Lydecker's men. Trouble-men, Original Cindy had replied. After an hour of speaking to them, he got no closer to any contact with Colonel Lydecker. Original Cindy and Zack had definitely ruled out Ohio as the place where Max was being held -- the temperatures didn't seem to work -- when Logan finally said, loudly, "Colonel Lydecker. How nice to finally get to speak to you this morning . . . Yes, I am aware you are a busy man, but that doesn't give . . . cut the crap. Where is she? . . . Oh, she's dead, is she? Sorry, 'Deck, but I've got some things that say otherwise . . . where did I get them? Now who would I be to rat out an innocent source . . . not very nice words, you know . . . Arranged the same as last night, let me give you the address . . ."   
  
Logan fired off an address, where, as everyone in the room knew, there would be equipment, all in readiness for Lydecker. Making calls and getting favors done was Logan's best thing. "Time . . . time . . . " he muttered, frowning into his thoughts. "How about eight thirty, tomorrow night? That'll give you sufficient time to come up with bullcrap, that'll give me sufficient time to counter attack. Good-bye." 


	8. .07 -- Ain't no walk in the park

Here we go . . . you all know the drill. I own nothing. NOTHING!  
  
Part .07  
  
"Boo," Original Cindy said as Logan sat the reciever down, "you have to come help us over here. We can't figure it out . . . Temperature, 36° F, visability, 10 meters . . . wind speed -- lookee here, Logan. Its eight miles per hour. This place would be a nightmare for you 'n' me. Our boy Zack says it ain't no walk in the park for the genetically engineered, either."  
  
Zack nodded emphathetically, "It ain't . . . er, it isn't . . ."  
  
Original Cindy gave Zack a quick you-bitting-my-flavor? look before continuing. "So you got any idea where it is."  
  
Walking quickly to Original Cindy and Zack, Logan picked up their notes and sat down heavily on a chair.   
  
"What's this?" he murmured after a few minutes. "Doratidi . . . that seems to be the name of the facitiy she's being kept in . . . something seems so obvious, I just can't place it . . ."  
  
"We got the same feeling, brother," Original Cindy said with a small shrug of her shoulders.  
  
"Wait a second," Zack put his finger down and traced the paper, one of the original photocopies, "that could be a longitude and a langitude, couldn't it?"  
  
"Oh my god . . ." Original Cindy whispered, "Look, sixty-one, zero. Ten, N. One hundred-fifty, zero. One, W. Original Cindy went through that page, why did she miss that?"  
  
"You were tired, Cindy, okay?" Logan spoke, typing in the numbers on his computer. "Bingo," he said, "Anchorage, Alaska . . . wait . . . Doratidi . . . write that backwards . . . the Iditarod race starts in Anchorage . . ."  
  
"I feel like an idiot," Zack said, starting to pace.  
  
"No more than usual," Original Cindy commented dryly to Logan.  
  
"I heard that," Zack told her.  
  
"It would have been wasted if you hadn't," Original Cindy stated, getting ready for a heated argument by placing her hands on her hips.  
  
"Can we stop bickering and start getting Max out of this hellhole?" Logan asked, typing in some commands to his computer. The other two stopped the fight before it began and quieted down. "This is what we know:  
  
"Max is somewhere in the Anchorage, Alaska area. The name of their compound is either Iditarod or Doratidi . . . and the dealings seem to be different that those that were Manticore based. What I know is I wont tell Lydecker anything else we know."  
  
"Because that boy may not have the 411 on all on our dish?" Original Cindy said. (Who did you expect to say it, Zack?)  
  
"Exactly," Logan said. "Lydecker doesn't need any more information than what we've given him."  
  
"I think its best you gave them the heads up that you know Max is alive. It means we've got a barganing chip," Original Cindy ran her hands through her hair, trying to fix the tangles that had formed in it.  
  
"So, what are we gonna be telling good ole Dad?" Zack asked mordantly, cutting Logan's reply off.  
  
"Well, we're going to make it sound as if Max is being held somewhere in the Sierra Nevadas," Logan said quickly.  
  
"Ouch, now that place is hot. Original Cindy knows all too well, her parents had this whole love hot places thing going on when she was younger," Original Cindy grabbed a clip to tame her hair.  
  
"Its the perfect place, on the continental United States and hot as Hades in the summertime," Logan said.  
  
"Instead of hot as Antartica in the summer time, eh?" Original Cindy asked.  
  
"One extreme to the other," Logan said, "though Antartica is a lot colder, let me tell you."  
  
"Original Cindy was fishing and she couldn't come up with nothin'," Original Cindy shrugged. "So shoot her."  
  
"Let's prepare what we'll say to Lydecker, shall we?" Zack interjected.  
  
"Yeah," Original Cindy made a face and drew her head back, "let's get this baby booted up." 


	9. .08 -- Third Party

Don't worry if I use a familiar name . . . I wont twist anything around, its just a term or familiar face. Like Cat's usage of Project Hades (was that cool or WHAT?!) or her usage of Marta -- the cousin of Justin. I'm waiting for her to talk about Cassi or Jaci's sweet baby girl. Okay, so its Logan and Max's sweet baby girl, but still . . .  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Part .08  
  
After they had established the hopeful location of Max, Zack grabbed the phone and checked his own voicemail.   
  
"No new messages," Zack told them, tapping his fingers absently on the tabletop, "but that's a good thing." He then began dialing, rapidly, a new number. "Yes, Jhondie? Oh, hi Justin . . . put Jhondie on the phone, its important . . . she's out . . . tell her to give me a ring when she gets back in . . . no, the moment she gets back in. . . . oh, yeah . . . let's see . . . Logan, do you have a number? Justin says you're scrambled." Apparently, Justin had been trying to get the number already. Logan smiled, Justin sounded like someone he would like.  
  
"Yeah," Logan rattled off his number to Zack, who repeated it to Justin. "It's my cell number, you can give that to all of them -- I use it mostly on business, so no personal calls will come through."  
  
"How did you know that?" Zack said into the phone, obviously not speaking to Logan. "Yes, its true . . . I'm not lying . . . Okay, okay . . . Yes, Justin, I will ask . . ." Zack put his hand over the mouthpiece. "Do you have an Eyes Only contact in Los Angeles? Okay, I know the answer, but Justin wants to make certain I ask."  
  
"Yes . . . a team of two that sends me a lot of good stuff . . . don't tell me that you're speaking to LA?" Logan said, shaking his head in amazement.  
  
"Yeah, and he and Jhondie've been together for years longer than I've known you," Zack said. "Technically, you've known a Manticore soldier for much longer than you thought. I've known for a while . . . okay, I've known since Jhondie was about seventeen or eighteen . . . "  
  
"And you just didn't want to tell me, did you?" Logan asked.  
  
Zack waved him away, "Okay, so have Jhondie call." Pressing the pound key, Zack started dialing again almost immediately. "Krit . . . good . . . meet me at Foggle Towers, in Seattle . . . yeah . . . you know the place? Oh, get anything good? How much did it fence for? Okay, bye . . ."  
  
All in all, Zack made four calls. "If I brought up more, it would just be hurting the mission. We don't want to get us all caught," he explained. Jhondie was on her way, as well as Krit, Syl, and Seana. "Seana'll be here first. She's is northern Oregon."  
  
True to his word, Seana was there in a few hours. A small, delicate looking girl, she had dark blonde hair and blue eyes. She was quiet, as Logan and Original Cindy got the impression. However, when she started talking, it was another story.   
  
"Hey, Seana," Zack said, motioning for her to sit down. She stood, staring at the group in front of her, holding a large duffle bag.  
  
"W'sup, Z? I get this all mysterious phone call, then its all, hi, how are ya? Gimme the stats or I'm out," she sat down heavily on the couch, then took off her cap. Her hair was in a long braid, which went down to her waist. "You gonna talk or am I gonna walk?" she asked irritably.  
  
"Seana," warned Zack, "this is for Max."  
  
The girl's expression softened. "What about Max?" she asked. At that moment, Logan's phone began to beep.  
  
"Sorry," Logan started, "I must have gotten another voicemail . . . I set it on call if I get a new message . . ." he walked over and picked up the phone. Zack turned back to Seana.  
  
"She's alive, and we're gonna bring her back," he said.  
  
"That's my kinda talking," Seana said. "Hey, who is the silent hottie in the corner?"  
  
"That," Zack said, "is Original Cindy."  
  
"Is Original Cindy wrong in guessing you bat for the all girl's team?" Original Cindy asked.  
  
Seana looked her over, "Original Cindy just might be right, if she's up to bat."  
  
"After we save Max," Original Cindy said, grinning. She tilted her head to the side, checking out the smaller woman's body.  
  
"Most definitely," Seana told her, starting to un-braid her hair. "Gotta fix my hair now that I know I've got to look my best," she explained, winking at Original Cindy.  
  
Logan suddenly exclaimed, "There's a third party!"  
  
"What?" Original Cindy asked. "Boo, you tryin' to scare us into early death with your yelps? What third party?"  
  
Logan turned around. "Someone named Renfro," he said triumphantly, "has just called me, saying that she has Max and she'll have me if I don't stop. I'm going to call her back and set up a meeting for the day after Lydecker's."  
  
"You sure it's safe?" Original Cindy asked. "We can't lose the brains of our operation."  
  
"What else will we do to save Max? She's alive and we've got to make certain she stays that way," Logan said, sitting back in his chair.  
  
"That's right," came a voice from the doorway. Yet another blonde stood in the doorway. She much taller than any of the previous Manticore women. Max and Seana were by no means the tallest things on that side of the mountain.  
  
"Jhondie," Zack introduced her to the party already assembled. Jhondie put a bag she was carrying by the door.  
  
"Hi, LA," Logan said casually, his face neutral.  
  
"Hey, Eyes. Justin wasn't lying, I see," Jhondie said. "So, when's Syl coming? What with the dumb blonde genes that surely run into the family," she winked at Zack, "we might just be able to come up with a decent party to save Max's ass."  
  
"Maybe," Original Cindy said, the only non-blonde in the room. "Original Cindy is about to get sunstroke, what with all the fine hotties in the room. Excuse her while she takes a shower. Images of her and Seana are very prominent in her head." Original Cindy slinked out of the room and into the bathroom.  
  
Jhondie eyed her appreciatively. "Now that is somebody who speaks her mind," she laughed. Seana bristled. "Don't worry, not my side of the street, remember?"  
  
"Stay on your side, I'll stay on mine," Seana told her.  
  
"Hey, I'll stay on my side, too," a tall boy -- for he looked so young Logan could think of him of nothing other than a boy -- walked into the room.   
  
Logan was immediately reminded of a striking resemblance to Max. He regretted getting drunk and not attending Max's funeral -- he wondered how many of them actually looked alike. Max and this boy could have been twins. "If my name isn't Krit Martinez, I don't know what it is," he said by way of introduction. His bag was almost as long as he was.  
  
"Logan Cale," Logan held out his hand to the man-ling. "I'm . . . Max's . . . friend . . ." he said awkwardly.  
  
"We all come here for a remembering Max reunion?" asked Krit as Syl walked into the room, also sporting a large bag. She was blonde, and Logan smiled, there seemed to be no end to the blondes in Max's family.  
  
"You missed out on a few things," Logan told the two of them. "About Max: she's alive and we're going to get her back," Logan said, tossing her a paper. "That's her location. I've got two 'interviews' set up for tomorrow and the day after. One is with Lydecker, the other is with someone known as Renfro who claims to have Max. We'll see which of the two is more helpful to us."  
  
"Little miss me is a little overwhelmed, so I'm gonna sit," Syl said, sitting down suddenly. 


	10. .09 -- Olive Juice

Here you go! I'm glad you like this story, guys. Okay, so this chapter is four pages long, Times New Roman, size ten. I'm so happy. I'm watching Drew Cary . . . I have to do Spanish homework -- some stupid skit and a poster. Thanks NTR for all of the support.  
  
Part .09  
Olive Juice  
  
Less than three minutes before the conference with Lydecker was scheduled to begin, Logan and Original Cindy were running around the apartment, making certain that everyone was out of the camera's viewpoint and out of the lighting. As Original Cindy put it, Logan didn't need no shadows making his pretty face go multi-shaded.  
  
At a minute to go, Logan sat down and took off his glasses. Original Cindy sat at his computer, Bling to her right -- he having arrived as a sort of afterthought of Logan's -- both staring intently at the screen, where Original Cindy was programing Logan's 'mask' into the computer.  
  
"Almost ready, boo," she told him, smacking on the computer keyboard viciously, "just press send and we all done. Now, everybody remember, stay quiet or Original Cindy will lay the smackdown on your ass. Don't nobody disagree with Original Cindy, least not after the first time, you hear?"  
  
Finally, Original Cindy hit the enter key with a furious slam, then turned in her chair and watched as Logan began to speak.  
  
"Colonel Lydecker," Logan said quietly in the cameras. "We meet again."  
  
"What do you know about my girl?" Lydecker-on-the-screen asked, his blue eyes piercing. "I thought she was out there, but you send a report out telling us she's been dead for four years and is now suddenly resurrected?"  
  
An ironic smile twisted Logan's features. "Its exactly what I'm trying to tell you, Colonel. Are you trying to tell us that you hadn't any idea that Max was dead?"  
  
"None at all. Last we heard, there was a report of violent female in Chicago," Lydecker began pacing the room, drifting in and out of the camera's viewpoint. "I want her back, Eyes, and I will get her back. She's probably in some Russian lab being diced into pieces."  
  
All in the room with Logan suddenly took a deep breath. Logan began speaking. "We have good knowledge of where she is being held, Colonel. We also have a second suspect on our waiting list, so don't worry if I'm not at all disappointed that you didn't get your slimy hands onto Max. I will give you one item of comfort, she's being held by the US"  
  
Lydecker stopped his pacing and faced the camera. On the screen, his pupils were wide with anger. "Renfro," he muttered, half to himself, before he continued pacing.  
  
"We have mutual contacts," Logan said softly. Lydecker stopped pacing once again and began to curse loudly, at Renfro, it seemed. "I take it you and Ms. Renfro are not on good terms."  
  
"Second time I've caught her," Lydecker was saying. "That bitch keeps stealing my kids. They go out on missions and don't return . . . son of a bitch . . . I will kill her . . . takes my X-5 group and plays with them like they're dolls . . ."  
  
"Isn't that what you do, Colonel?" Logan asked quietly. Suddenly, Lydecker stopped his almost incoherent mutterings and spoke directly to the camera.  
  
"That woman does what I will not do. She knows no humanity. She doesn't even see these children she takes of mine as human -- they are merely an object of war to her . . ." Lydecker was cut short by Logan.  
  
"Colonel, don't tell me you think of your children as anything other than objects of war?" he asked coldly.  
  
"I see them as soldiers. Efficient in what they do, perfect in their actions," Lydecker said. "Look, if you want Max back, you're going to have to trust me on this," Lydecker seemed to be thinking quickly, desperately. The blow from Renfro must have struck deep, to get him so desperate. "Renfro is not somebody to screw around with. We've got to strike her deep in the heart of her operations to get the kids back, do you understand?"  
  
"You want me to get the kids back for you?" Logan asked mockingly. The question hung out in the air for a few moments before Lydecker finally replied.  
  
"I want you to help me get my kids back to me, yes," Lydecker admitted. "I'll help you if you help me."  
  
"How will you help me, Colonel? I don't need your help very much, but it seems you need mine," Logan raised his eyebrows in question. "I have information on Max's location, I have at my disposal several of her brothers and sister who will do * anything * to get her back. So, I ask you, why do I need you?"  
  
"You help me bring down Madame Renfro and get my kids back, I'll forget about Max, forget she ever existed," Lydecker said. Logan closed his eyes for a millisecond.  
  
"Tempting offer, I'll have to think on it," Logan motioned for Cindy to disable the conference. "Gotta Blaze."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
When Logan was certain the conference was disabled, he went over to his computer and brought up the recordings of the conversation. Listening to it, he paused it right before Lydecker's ending statement. Turning around, Logan watched the others for a few moments, not speaking anything, Then, quietly, as if he'd made a decision to end all decisions, he pressed play.  
  
". . . forget she ever existed . . ." the recording played.  
  
"I'm going to lie down," Logan told the others. He made no move to leave, however. Looking around, almost helplessly, he said, "What do we do?"  
  
Original Cindy put her arm around Logan's shoulders. "We wait, boo, till we talk to this Renfro person. We hope 'Deck don't go blabbing his mouth to her and get her too scared to talk to us. You did give her a ring, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes, I gave her a call," Logan assured her. "We've just got to wait until tomorrow at this time so we can talk to her."  
  
"Its not fun, you know, all this waiting," Seana said from the table, where she had been sitting, assembling some guns that apparently had been disassembled and stored in her bag. "Lucky me, I brought five guns to assemble, all with little pieces that I have to dig in my bag for. Good half hour of fun, that is."  
  
"I don't like waiting either," Krit said, getting up from the floor where he had been checking ammunition. At the moment, it was in three piles on the floor. "We have to keep busy. Bling," he glanced up, "did you get those reservations made?"  
  
Bling handed Zack some papers. "Seven tickets to Anchorage, Alaska, right there," he told Krit as the papers left his fingers.  
  
"Seven? There're only five of us," Syl said, glancing up.  
  
Logan spoke for Bling. "We're coming, too. Do you think I'll just let you go and stay here? We are going with you. We may not be able to go out with you, but we'll do security and we'll keep in contact with you."  
  
"You're not thinking of leaving Original Cindy here," Original Cindy broke in, "while you and Bling go have all the fun."  
  
"I'm not going, Cindy," Bling reassured her. "The other ticket is for you."  
  
"Good. Or, like Max's last words to me, it's aiight," Original Cindy gave a smile.  
  
"Her last words to me were, 'Don't let them take me,'" Krit said. "From the night we escaped."  
  
"Same here," Syl and Seana added.  
  
"Normal's gonna have kittens," Bling stated fondly. "What about you?" Bling asked Logan.  
  
"Olive Juice," Logan said, his eyes unfocused.  
  
[gray thoughts]  
  
Max walks in. Logan is typing away at the keyboard. She sits down directly toward the right of his eyesight. He glances up.  
  
"Guess what I learned today from Herbal," she says triumphantly.  
  
"What?" Logan asks, smiling in an amused way at her excitement.  
  
"Olive juice," she grins.  
  
"Olive juice?" Logan is bewildered.  
  
"See, Logan, if you mouth it across the room, it looks like you're saying olive juice," Max's pager goes off.  
  
"Oh," Logan thinks on it for a minute, watching her check her pager.  
  
"Gotta go. Olive juice," she waltzes out of the room.  
  
"Olive juice," Logan whispers.  
  
[/gray thoughts]  
  
"What?" Seana asked, running to the kitchen to get a glass of water.  
  
"Oh, she said olive juice. It was a joke that Herbal had just told her. She never really got to explain what it was about," Logan said absently. "So, the tickets are good for two days from now, right?"  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"This feels familiar," Original Cindy remarked as she settled herself into the computer chair. "Okay, everybody quiet. You talk, never gonna do it again." She pressed the button to start transmission of video footage.  
  
On the screen in front of Logan appeared a rather severe looking woman with short, electric blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a thin-lipped mouth.  
  
"Eyes Only," it was more of a statement than a question.  
  
"Madame Renfro," Logan used the title that Lydecker had used. "You have her?"  
  
The woman smiled. "I never lie to anyone I need, Eyes, and I need you. Of course I have her," Renfro snapped her fingers. Behind her chair back, you could see a pair of legs walk and stop. They were dressed in military fatigues. "I brought her, as a sort of treat. She was good this week."  
  
Logan swallowed hard. Original Cindy started typing hurriedly and suddenly the camera's view widened. Behind Renfro, you could see the face of a young soldier, hair freshly shaven, her face covered with bruises and scratches.  
  
Logan's throat suddenly contracted. "Max?" he squeaked out. He saw a slight nod of recognition from her frightened eyes. "What have you done to her?" he asked, suddenly fierce. "She's covered in bruises."  
  
Madame Renfro's eyes flickered slightly. "We questioned her before allowing her to appear in this interview," she smiled cruelly.  
  
"Maxie," Logan breathed. He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry." He saw her mouth something. "What will it take to get her back?"  
  
"Everything, Eyes," Renfro said. "Everything. It will take so many things. If you want, what was it you called her? Oh, if you want * Max * back, you've got to pay. I don't sell my children for light prices."  
  
"Name your price, Renfro," Logan said, cutting off whatever her next breath.  
  
"I want you to disappear," Renfro said, icily.  
  
"What?" Logan took a deep breath. Behind Renfro, he could see Max making a barely perceptible shake of her head -- no, no, no.  
  
"I want Eyes Only to fall off the face of the Earth. If you want your Max back, Eyes Only is going to have to halt all operations," Renfro stood up and went beside Max. "You may speak, now, since you have behaved so well during this interview."  
  
Max stepped forward a half a step. "Olive Juice." 


	11. .10 -- After You

Part .10  
  
"Max," Logan half-whispered. Her tone had been flat, devoid of emotion. "You know, you were out the door so quickly you never explained that . . . I figured it out, thought. Olive Juice to you, too."  
  
Max made a barely perceptable movement of the mouth; an almost smile. "I'm glad," Max turned her eyes toward Renfro, her head still straight toward the camera. "How my boos?"  
  
Logan considered his words carefully. Finally, he took a humorous approach on the subject. "They all good, ya know? I be roomin' with ya best boo, be talking with Marley-man, and the Painter is okay, too."  
  
Giving a choked sob, Max asked, "and . . ."  
  
"They're here . . . number of years I've known you . . . " he gave Max a significant glanced, ". . . you're friends are a real handful . . ." again, he gave Max a glance.  
  
Max slowly mouthed the word five. Renfro stepped forward, roughly jerking Max back. Quietly, Max stepped to the left, just out of Renfro's reach.  
  
"So," Renfro said, "do we have a deal?"  
  
A deal. It would mean the total end of Eyes Only. Could he do that? Logan wasn't at all sure he could. Renfro wouldn't be able to stop him from rescuing Max . . .  
  
"I'll think about it," Logan abruptly motioned for Original Cindy to discontinue the converstaion. Smacking the keyboard loudly, she stopped the sharing of their camera footage. "Nobody move," Logan said quietly. "I don't trust Renfro. Somebody want to go and disconect our camera manually? That way no footage can be sent from our place . . ."  
  
Wordlessly, Zack walked behind the camera and began removing wires. After he had pulled the last cord from the camera, he looked up. "Done," he said simply.  
  
Logan walked over to Original Cindy. "Cindy," he said, "bring up all the cameras."  
  
Immediately, Original Cindy started a rapid finger dance across the keyboard. "Good thing you made me learn your computer, because Zack boy would be totally lost here . . ." she said as the screen suddenly devided into six parts. "Ol' lady took down the first camera."  
  
"What I expected," Logan tapped the screen. "Take it off and give me some sound on Camera three."  
  
Original Cindy moved the cursor and clicked a few times. The first screen disapeared, the last five all enlarged a few times over to take its place, and they started to hear Madame Renfro bawling out Max.  
  
"What the hell was that in there, soldier?" Renfro screamed, her face inches from Max.  
  
"Ma'am, it was just friendly conversation," Max replied. Her image became blurred as she moved swiftly toward the door.  
  
Logan walked out of the room, followed by Zack. "Keep that recording, Cindy," Logan called.  
  
"Will do," Original Cindy afirmed.  
  
"What was that?" Zack asked angrily as Logan and he entered the bedroom, where Logan sat wearily down on the bed.  
  
"We don't want to appear desperate," Logan told him.  
  
Zack threw his hands up in the air. "I don't get you, Cale. You want Max back, don't you?"  
  
Quietly, "Yes."  
  
Angrily, "Then why are you putting her life in danger? Drop Eyes Only!"  
  
"Do you think it is that easy, Zack?" Logan looked up suddenly. "I want Max back more than anything else. I will give up Eyes Only if it is the only way, but, we have those plane tickets. We're using them. If all else fails, I will give up Eyes Only."  
  
"So its like a last resort? Let go of something to save Max's life *only* if nothing else works?" Zack asked cynically.  
  
"Yes," Logan answered truthfully.  
  
"I think that's a pile of -- " Zack began.  
  
"I don't care. I'm running this show here, Zack," Logan reminded him. "I'm doing it this way."  
  
"Go to hell," Zack told him.  
  
"After you," Logan retorted. 


	12. .11 -- Songs and Rides

h3 align=centerPart .11/h3  
  
pThree days later, Logan, Original Cindy, Seana, Syl, Krit, Jhondie, and Zack stepped off of a plane in an airport in Anchorage. Logan and Original Cindy were arguing about something in the notes that they couldn't place./p  
  
p"Look, I think N-M-A stands for something. The M could be Manticore," Original Cindy said./p  
  
p"What does the N stand for? National?" Logan countered. "What are you saying, that she is at the National Manticore Association?"/p  
  
p"Original Cindy isn't saying that she missed the sarcasm in that, but possibly," Cindy shook her head violently at some guys that were eying her. "Wrong girl, she's looking for a lickety-chicks, too," she told them./p  
  
p"Cindy," Zack said quietly, "what if it isn't a name, but a place."/p  
  
p"A place, c'mon boy, you know we already got this figured out," Original Cindy said. Seana voiced that fact along side Cindy./p  
  
p"Think about it. What if it's Nome, Alaska?" Logan broke in, glancing at Zack./p  
  
p"Exactly what I was thinking," Zack said. "Logan, where can we hook up that computer of yours? Along with contacting those people you were talking about, we might just check out Nome."/p  
  
pLogan got their rental car; a green 1996 Ford Aerostar Van. After stuffing their gear in the back of the van, they went to the doors. Jhondie and Krit got into the front seat of the van, Jhondie driving. Zack and Syl slid into the middle two seats. Original Cindy, Logan, and Seana cosied themselves to the back of the van./p  
  
pThe drive to the hotel that Bling had booked for them was almost enjoyable. Logan and Original Cindy reached over the back of their seat and brought out their CDs. Passing some up to the front, they started singing along to their favorites almost immediately. Something about Cindy's voice was infectious; soon everyone in the car, exlcuding Zack, was singing along to the Pre-Pulse hits that Logan had weaned Cindy onto./p  
pbr/ppbr/p  
  
pYou always had an eye for things that glitter  
brBut I was far from being made of gold.  
brI don't know how, but I scraped up the money  
brI just never could quite tell you no/p  
  
pJust like when you were leaving Amirilo  
brTo take that new job in Tennessee  
brAnd I quite mine so we could be together  
brI can't forget the way you looked at me./p  
  
pJust to see you smile  
brI'd do anything that you wanted me to  
brWhen all is said and done, I'd never count the cost  
brYou're worth all that's lost  
brJust to see you smile./p  
  
pWhen you said time was all you really needed  
brI walked away and let you have your space  
br'Cause leavin' didn't hurt me near as badly  
brAs the tears I saw rolling down your face/p  
  
pAnd yesterday I knew just what you wanted  
brWhen you came walkin up to me with him  
brSo I told you I was happy for you  
brAnd given the chance I'd lie again/p  
  
pJust to see you smile  
brI'd do anything that you wanted me to  
brWhen all is said and done, I'd never count the cost  
brYou're worth all that's lost  
brJust to see you smile./p  
  
pJust to see you smile  
brI'd do anything that you wanted me to  
brWhen all is said and done, I'd never count the cost  
brYou're worth all that's lost  
brJust to see you smile./p  
  
  
pBy the end of the ride, they had gone right through the Tim McGraw Greatest Hits CD that Logan had brought. Even Syl had to admit that Something Like That was an interesting song./p  
  
pAt the hotel, they all gathered their packs and went off to the rooms that they'd agreed on back in Seattle. Jhondie, Syl, and Seana roomed in one room, Zack and Krit in the other, Logan and Original Cindy in the third./p  
  
pLogan and Cindy had laughed when they volunteered to room together. Logan explained, rather sheepishly, that after Max had gone that he'd gone through a period where every two or three weeks he'd go out and get "rip roarin' drunk," as Logan put it./p  
  
p"Third time that happened when Original Cindy was here," Cindy had said, "boo nearly killed himself trying to get to the bathroom. So, whenever he came home drunk after that I'd sleep next to him. Helped me feel like he'd be alive the next morning and it did no harm."/p  
  
pThe computer finished logging onto the network that Logan needed it on and everyone waited with baited breath for the message he sent to be replied to./p 


	13. .12 -- Move over, Move Over

Part .12   
Move Over, Move Over  
  
  
  
The message Logan read was almost exactly what he wanted. Montego would e-mail the plans of the government building in Anchorage to Logan in as soon as confirmation came up on his screen. Logan sat tensely for a few moments, thinking, wondering how to phrase the reply to the message.   
  
"Move," Original Cindy pushed Logan aside and began writing. "Dear Mr. Montego," she said aloud, her tone commanding. "We are please to receive your e-mail and will be anxiously awaiting the plans that you have offered to send us. If it would be of little or no trouble to you, could you please include in the plans for any government or military-like buildings that are located in or about the towns of Anchorage or Nome? We have recently found new developments in the project that we are working on and," Original Cindy flexed her fingers, her long nails painted a bright red, "require this information as soon as you are able to give it to us. We are forever in gratitude toward you. Sincerely, The Eyes Only Organization."  
  
"Nice," Seana commented from her perch on the bed. The room was filled with the others on various pieces of furniture or, in the case of Krit, cross-leggedly on the floor. Zack, with his usual air of disapproval almost gone, was watching from the chair next to Cindy, sharing it with Logan without a word of complaint. It was almost comical, seeing the two of them sitting there together, each with one half of the chair.   
  
Cindy glanced up triumphantly. "Should be. Original Cindy learned to type as soon as Boy-Legs over there started pacing when he was working. Soon as soon, I was his little secretary while Lord King was dictating from the other end of the room, sometimes pulling his hair out by the fist fulls." Original Cindy smiled fondly at the recollection. "Now we wait another hour while he makes certain he doesn't want to back out. Original Cindy suggests, Logan, in that hour we work on finding another man who might do us the same favors this boy is thinking of, just in case the flooring his too chilly for his feet."  
  
"Ah, sure," Logan said, smiling a bit at Cindy. "Move," with that, Logan pushed her out of the chair, onto the floor. Seana whooped with laughter while Syl giggled appreciatively. Logan began his typing, which was only a few words per minute faster than Cindy's, as all the Manticore's in the room quickly analyzed. "What do you think about this one, Jhondie?"  
  
Jhondie leaned over the table, glancing at the laptop with a sideway view. "He died three months ago, saw it in the papers," she said finally. Logan looked up, a look of bewilderment on his face. "I'm sure of it. Damn sure of it. In fact, he might have been wiped out because of this slight explosion that Justin and I weren't able to stop . . . one of our failed a**ignments, Eyes."  
  
"Damnit to hell," Logan said. "You didn't report any fatalities in that; it wasn't even a large explosion." Jhondie shrugged, so Logan began his typing again, with small muttered Jesus-Christ-there-goes-another-contact flirting in and out of hearing.   
  
Suddenly, a chime on his laptop sounded. Logan had mail. Original Cindy checked the clock, then laughed; a rich, throaty laugh that held every one person in the room captivated. The laugh, as Syl had thought at the moment, was enough to turn any one to the female sex.   
  
"Boy done took fifteen minutes," she told Logan after a moment of catching her breath. "You got a good contact; Original Cindy most certainly expected him to fink out on you, Logan, but he didn't. You might want to put him on the top of your list of guys to thank big time when you strike oil in Persia or whatever they call Israel now."  
  
"We don't know what the letter says, Cindy," Krit reminded her. "It might very well be a condolence letter; Montego is sorry but he is unable to fulfill our demands. You talk a lot before you even investigate the facts. I'm just warning you, it might not turn out as you wish it to turn out."  
  
"At least one of the five adjectives to describe me isn't 'taciturn,' Krit, m'dear," Original Cindy said smugly; very well aware that she was most certainly the exact opposite of taciturn. Silent by nature indeed! Now, Krit on the other hand, well, if Original Cindy didn't know that Manticore's were above average in intelligence, she just might have thought him mentally retarded or the like.   
  
"Will you guys just shut the hell up so Logan can tell us what's in the e-mail?" Syl asked irritably from the couch. Logan glanced at her. Yes, she was agitated, but he didn't expect her to be more so than the rest of those a**embled. Syl glanced around nervously. "Got my baby at home turning five today, sorry."  
  
"Hard life, toots," Original Cindy said sympathetically. "My little sister had her twenty-first last month and I didn't have the time to go to New England to wish her happy legal drinking days. Bummed me out for days; being away from your little one has got to be a twelve worth worse."  
  
"Yeah," Syl said, nodding in agreement with what Original Cindy had said. Logan was glad that Cindy had played peacemaker there; he didn't want to have over used and under fed Manticores all over his ass while he was working.   
  
Returning his gaze to the computer screen, he pressed the button on his laptop to open the e-mail. Within the first few lines Logan knew that the future of the mission was decided. His heart beat wildly and his mouth went dry, then suddenly watered as if he'd smelled something insanely delicious, which wasn't likely, as most of the personage in the room hadn't taken a shower in three or even four days.   
  
"He's got five plans for us, but he doubts we'll need them," Logan told the others in the room. "The facilities in all but one of them are exactly the same. Apparently, about a year after the first, and variable, facility went up, these other four were built. It took a year. They were finished and, apparently, pronounced operational about three months before Max died . . . or, actually, was taken."  
  
"Tell him to send them all. There are always differences in the landscapes and such everywhere. There are always variables," Zack said. "We cannot let it go by chance that we don't have a certain corridor or level on the blueprints we have. Tell him to send them all over, clearly marked."  
  
"He sent the first one, the Anchorage one, and he's waiting for us to tell him whether or not we want one or four of the others," Logan said, bringing up a small screen cap of some blueprints. "So, I'll drop him a quick note and then we'll take a look at these plans. Cindy, go into the third box, you know the one, and bring out the printer so I can hook it up to my computer. We'll need to print these."  
  
"Girl got you covered," Original Cindy said with a careless toss of her hand toward Jhondie, who was putting several sheets of what Cindy always called continuous computer paper in the printer. "She knows what you need, apparently. These X-5s got some sort of sixth sense, and," Original Cindy said decidedly, "it gives *me* the creeps."  
  
Original Cindy smiled a bit to herself, remembering how she had to a remorseful Max once, "What do I know? I'm just a big ol' lezbo." The tone itself was hers, Cindy mused, but the words could be used over and over again to have so many different meanings. She shook herself mentally.   
  
"Thanks, Jhondie," Logan told her as she handed the printer cable to him to hook up into his computer. Logan leaned over and plugged the cable into the correct place, then began printing the document with a few swift keystrokes. "There it is," he told them as the printer noisily spat out the plans on one of the sheets. "I'm printing three copies for you guys, get in a group and work it out on one, then place it on the second. I know there are going to be mistakes on that one, transfer the corrections onto the third. I want to be able to get in there, if we have a chance, and leave Renfro a small recording near the front gates. I just want to make sure you guys know how to keep covered."  
  
"Yes, oh high and mighty Lord," Original Cindy with the sort of saucy grin that Logan had only seen on her face after she had dumped an unsatisfactory girlfriend. "After we do that, we'll weed the cabbage patch and we'll water the carrots."  
  
"We got a comedian on our hands," Syl said, tossing her hands up in the air while Zack got the papers and a handful of pens from the desk.   
  
"I'm attracted to comedians," Seana put in. Original Cindy turned to Seana.   
  
"I'm attracted to people who are attracted to comedians," Original Cindy told Seana.   
  
"I'm attracted to people who are attracted to people who are attracted to comedians," Seana said.   
  
"Oh, for heaven's sake, can't we stop this? Max is at Manticore!" Krit said. Absently, Original Cindy wondered where Krit had gotten the balls; he certainly hadn't been like that the few times he'd dropped by with Zack after Max's death . . . or, non-death. Damnit, this was just confusing.   
  
"Max isn't at Manticore; she's in a division of Manticore operated by the director of Manticore, who is also the directed of Phase Four, as this is called," Logan said. "I thought you were listening when we went over the notes, Krit. Lydecker, who is basically in charge of Manticore, in no way had any idea that Max was alive; nor did he have any real idea that she was, as we thought, dead."  
  
"So it was the b***h Renfro who screwed us over," Original Cindy offered. Krit shrugged his shoulders, his dark eyes seemingly impa**ive.   
  
The computer gave the mail notice. The people who had, moments before, been bickering suddenly ceased their chatter and watched with baited breath as Logan downloaded the files that had been attached to the brief message in the e-mail from Montego.   
  
Printing out the blueprints, Logan gave a small sigh of relief. The blueprints, indeed, did seem to be identical. It would mean so much less for the Manticores, for the X-5s, to memorize, which would mean so much less that they could mess up on. Not that he had any doubts of their abilities, knock on wood, but still . . .  
  
Zack snorted. "That idiot," he said. Logan glanced up. Montego, the idiot? Why, Montego had been top in their mathematic cla**es at Yale . . . "look right here, these blueprints, why, its silly! The corridors and such in this blueprint are smaller, making for more space, which, consequently, turns into three extra rooms. Look," he pointed, "here, here, and up there near the bottom left of the page."  
  
"My God," Original Cindy said, "they look nothing more than broom closets!" She gave a toss of her head, indicating she didn't much liked Zack's attitude. He gave it no notice, however, and continued speaking.   
  
"If we had to count the number of doors down a certain hallway, it would have been suicide," he explained patiently to her, as if she were but a mere child. Original Cindy took another look at the blueprint, carefully examining the closets, as she had described them.   
  
"Damn," she said. "Original Cindy hadn't any idea that closets were so important. This will make her a lot more careful with what she says about them in the future. She doesn't like eating her words; most of the time they got this bitter taste that just does not do it for her."  
  
Logan turned away from the computer. "This is what I think, and I emphasize that word, is the situation," he started. "Renfro has her headquarters and probably her younger generation soldiers here in Anchorage. Anchorage is probably where she keeps the rogues -- meaning insubordinates -- while she's working them over. After she's satisfied, she sends them to one of these points," Logan placed a finger on each of the four blueprints, "and that's where they train. Look at the size of these rooms, possibly an indoor training facility. We've got the word gymnasium on everything . . .  
  
"We know that Max was being held in Nome. We know that for certain. We just need to know if Renfro is cocky; we need to know if Renfro thought that maybe we knew of her location in Nome," Logan took a deep breath. "Maybe she hyped up security, maybe she took Max to Anchorage, maybe to another one of the training facilities. The only way is to start working against them."  
  
"Hand us the Nome blueprint, stupid, so we can memorize it," Seana said, "and then let's work on a plan."  
  
At the end of the night, there was a plan. Not much of one, but a plan. Original Cindy, even, as she said, saw the many ways it could go wrong; the many ways a person might never return. It was, as Logan put it late the next morning, over his third cup of coffee, up to fate if they would make it out or not. The Manticores remained hopeful. 


	14. .13 -- Smells Like Teen Spirit

Troubled Souls  
Part .13  
  
smells like teen spirit  
nirvana  
  
Even the best of the plans fail. A story would not be realistic if Cinderella arrived at the ball and fell in love with the Prince, who she eventually married. That is why this isn't a Disney fairytale. If this was a Disney fairytale, Logan would be carrying kitty litter in a kind, thoughtful reaction to Max's cat DNA; Original Cindy would be happy, not gay; and . . . well, where the hell is my damn glass slipper?  
  
load up on guns and  
bring your friends  
  
Zack's face was grim. He and the other Manticores were about two miles away from the first facility. They were certain that it was where Max had been originally held. They were equally certain that Renfro had the brass to keep her in the same place, a sort of brazen thumbing of the nose toward them from her.  
  
it's fun to lose  
and to pretend  
  
Original Cindy was perched precariously on the roof of their motel, trying to tie into a satellite that was haphazardly mounted there earlier by Krit. From below, Logan called out encouragement, his eyes fixed to the screen in front of him.  
  
she's over bored  
and self-assured  
  
"Little to the left, Cindy," he called when the picture blurred and the earpiece in his ear crinkled alive with static and mayhem.  
  
"I know, Logan, I know," she snapped. "Original Cindy got a wigpiece, too, 'member?" She was, of course, referring to the headset that she had secured under her bandana.  
  
"Right," Logan said, looking at the viewpoint on the screen labeled KRIT. "Krit, your hair is blocking. Move your cap up on your head." Logan heard an okay and then the camera view tipped forward as Krit nodded. A hand went up to smooth the hair under the cap and pulled it forward.  
  
Logan had given them tight fitting caps that would serve the purposes of keeping their hair up and putting the mics and earpieces in. They were simple black, but Krit had remarked casually, "Nicest I've ever looked going into battle," before flashing Logan a dull ten-watt smile. Original Cindy had given Logan a huge wink behind Kit's head while Zack had looked at his shoes. Logan had busied himself as best he could by dropping his cold coffee into Syl's lap.  
  
oh no, i know  
a dirty word  
  
Cindy grinned while she shimmied down into the room from her unhealthy seating point on the room. Her cheeks were quite bright from the cold win.  
  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
  
"We're in business," she remarked. She got a chorus of affirmatives from those not in the room while Logan nodded in her direction.  
  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
  
  
Zack's eyes were dry. He blinked them once, then once gain. He fixed his gaze on the road to the right of him. The snowdrifts to the side of the road were filthy, yet he and the others had been trudging on in them for the past seven minutes, their pace unchanging.  
  
The facility came into view. It was not as impressive as Zack remembered the Gillette facility being. Perhaps it was because he was older; perhaps it was because he was entering instead of leaving. Zack thought it might be because he had outgrown fear.  
  
with the lights out  
it's less dangerous  
  
His heart was not beating wildly, his breath was not coming out in ragged gasps. This was familiar: a mission to be completed. Zack watched as the sun made her final gleaming show of power before she disappeared beyond the forest horizon, a candle blown out  
  
here we are now  
entertain us  
  
Zack made a rough signal indicating that Syl was to go to his right. Her eyes fixed on him, she complied wordlessly. Krit remained on Zack's left and Seana fell in behind him without command. Zack wondered whether to be angry at her brashness or proud that she realized where she should be.  
  
i feel stupid  
and contagious  
  
They reached the fence. The chain links were decidedly set higher than Logan would have been able to scale, with his fear of heights. Carefully, though, the Manticores cleared it in one bound. Catlike, they landed on the moss-covered concrete and moved cautiously forward in the darkness. They had no idea who would be watching them from the depths of the shadowy woods.  
  
here we are now  
entertain us  
  
Zack moved forward slowly, his eyes sweeping the dense shrubbery with intense dislike. He mouthed the words, "Too easy" before glancing to his left where he saw something moving in the brush. Grabbing the gun he had strapped to his leg, he made careful aim of the bush. Krit moved back to give good distance between Zack's target and himself. Seana and Syl had moved closer to Zack, covering his back while he turned toward the shrubs.  
  
  
a mulatto  
an albino  
  
A squirrel ran out of the bush. Zack narrowed his eyes at the creature, almost considering shooting at the high, bushy tail that was there just for the hell of it. Shaking his head, he turned forward. Krit moved back into position.  
  
Then he saw it. Lowering his body into the ground, he knew that the others were imitating him perfectly. There was a young child passing back and forth about twenty feet ahead of him. The child moved slowly and cautiously, almost as if it were on a guard more careful than before and didn't wish to be seen.  
  
a mosquito  
my libido (yeah)  
  
Zack soundlessly got up and closed the distance between himself and the child. If there were a sort of alarm sounded, he would be in between a rock and a tight spot. He walked closer and closer until he could reach out and touch the child. Quickly, before he could change his mind, he did just that, snapping the neck. Turning the child over, he saw that it was a young female with large, luminous eyes now empty of life.  
  
i'm worse at what i do best  
and for this gift i feel blessed  
  
It was Max. Yet it wasn't. Max was quite a few years older than this child, who looked barely seven, yet he remembered exactly how Max had looked at that age and it was Max. They had produced a clone of her? That was impossible.  
  
our little group has always been  
and always will until the end  
  
Krit walked forward, toward the body that Zack was staring it. It bothered him to see him hold the body, almost as if the chimera had been a sibling. When he saw the face of the child, he nodded to himself, not at all as disturbed as Zack.  
  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
  
It was like them, he reasoned, to keep experimenting with the same basic batch of soldiers. Once you get the general look of the car down pat, you work on the engine until it purrs. Krit took the child roughly by the shoulders and turned it over, pointing the barcode. It wasn't Max's . . . except for the last three digits. It was an upgrade. How ironic that Zack had killed it; killed her.  
  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
  
Krit pulled Zack away from the body and motioned toward the left and the right, effectively telling Zack that where there was one, there was another; and another; and another.  
  
with the lights out  
it's less dangerous  
  
There were more. They made a sweep of about one hundred feet in either direction, taking out four more. They were young Angela; young Fred; painfully, young Eva; and, strangely enough, a young Ben that didn't have his barcode correctly numbered. It was one higher than Ben's. Syl had taken him out and seen that the numbers were wrong. She wondered if Ben had been originally twinned in the first grouping and been placed in another grouping of X-5.  
  
here we are now  
entertain us  
  
Finally, Zack moved them forward. They came to a clearing. Seana saw the building in better relief than previously seen and the site was almost sickening for her. Seeing any place where there were Manticores held as virtual prisoners always turned her off, but this place was a project of Manticore's. There were marks on the wall that looked to be fingernail scratchings of words in letters and symbols that she didn't understand and wasn't certain she wanted to.  
  
i feel stupid  
and contagious  
  
Original Cindy swore when they took out the children. They were babies, she saw, in their slender builds and round features. Logan placed his hand on hers and said nothing, just kept his eyes unblinkingly on the screen while they systematically broke the necks of five young children.  
  
here we are now  
entertain us  
  
"Did the first one, Cindy, did she have Max's eyes?" Logan whispered dully as he stared at the screen now showing the Manticores kicking a basement window, as per to the plan. Cindy jumped out of the chair and became violently ill in the bathroom.  
  
a mulatto  
an albino  
  
Silently, Logan moved his mouse and zoomed in on Seana's view. There was something to the right of her, but it didn't seem to be catching her attention. He watched it a few seconds more before advising Seana to take a look. Without acknowledging the fact that Logan had spoken, Seana moved in that direction.  
  
a mosquito  
my libido (yeah)  
  
The animal attacked before she had time to react. "First there were two, then . . . then nine . . . and thirteen . . . and fourteen . . . now there is one . . . one . . . one out of . . . out of fourteen . . . and now . . . there is only--" Krit grabbed the beast off of Seana, where it had been trying to remove her hair. "Leave be! Leave me be! Leave here! You'll regret it! You don't want to stay! We're the science projects pulled from the ranks only to become this! You will join us soon if you don't lea-" Krit twisted the head.  
  
and i forget   
just why i taste  
  
"Holy . . . " Syl muttered under her breath. The animal had been . . . human? It most certainly didn't resemble anything human now. It had dark patches of thick fur on its arms. Or was that hair? The face, upon closer inspection, was covered with rough scales, as were its hands. She reached down and stroked them, and came up with a bloodied finger. Syl glanced at Seana and Krit, and noticed both were bleeding. Turning back, she continued as was.  
  
oh yeah,  
i guess it makes me smile  
  
They had to get to the computers. They needed to find out where Max was being held. Without that information, the mission would fail. Zack didn't need a failed mission. He had never failed one yet; never. He had thought, four years ago, that he had, that Max had died, but he had been wrong. The mission from earlier is only continuing on, he thought to himself as they went up the stairwell in a single file line.  
  
There was a lock at the top of the stairs. There was always a lock. People never left their basement door unlocked, afraid of what might climb in through their windows. Stray dogs . . . or stray cats. Or strange lizards . . . or whatever the hell that thing back behind them had been.  
  
i found it hard  
it was hard to find  
  
"Logan," Zack murmured, "do you have the security loop into their satellite complete?" Zack tilted his head forward slightly in an attempt to have the lock seen more clearly. "We wanna make sure we got cover before we bust doors."  
  
"Yeah," Logan said, his eyes trailing off of the computer screen. "I'd say you're safe to go right now. Should be working correctly."  
  
"What do you mean, should be?" Seana asked in a shrill whisper. Zack glared at her. Seana glared back. "These are our lives, Logan, and you have 'should be' to appease us? I don't want should be. I want you to tell me that you have the security looped one hundred percent."  
  
Logan stared at the screen for a few moments. He glanced at Cindy, her eyes wide and worried. She seemed to be mouthing some sort of prayer. What the hell? "I have the security looped one hundred percent," Logan told her in a flat monotone.  
  
"Thank you," Seana said. "At least I know you care when you lie to me."  
  
oh well, whatever,  
never mind  
  
They simply followed the signs to the computer room. There was nobody in the halls. It almost surprised the Manticores that there was a lack of security. They were doubly cautious with their movements and with the number of times they spoke to Logan and Cindy. With each and every transmition, there was even more chance that it would be picked up by something. That was undesirable.  
  
  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
  
The door was open, as was their luck. A man was just entering the room, his back towards the group as they stealthily worked towards him. It was swift. Krit took care of him in a few seconds and they were left with three men and three guns. Seana did a few simple kicks and those too were taken care of. Simple. Much too simple.  
  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
hello, hello, hello, how low?  
  
Krit took over the keyboard, sitting down and entering commands. Seana hadn't the faintest idea where he had drawn the codes and things he was using, but she was glad that he had them. She was certain that she would not have been able to keep her mind where it belonged. Even now, her eyes going from one screen to the other, her ears and concentration were in the corridor behind her. She didn't trust the calmness that had enveloped them since leaving the basement. She'd be dammed if that didn't sound like some sort of metaphor for leaving Manticore. No, not leaving; escaping.  
  
with the lights out  
it's less dangerous  
  
The screen flashed. Syl watched as a series of numbers flashed across the black screen. Almost out of habit, Syl began repeating the numbers to herself and memorizing them. For a moment, there was no meaning to the numbers: then Krit stood up.  
  
"That's the way to her barracks," Krit muttered, almost to himself. Zack nodded, then led a tentative company out of the room. Zack turned left at the end of the main hall, recalling from the plans which block Max's barracks should be located in.  
  
As they walked the halls, Zack thought on what the creature had said. Its voice rebounding off of the walls of his mind as well as his uneasy misgivings about the security was unnerving. The creature had seemed mad but he wouldn't' be able to tell, would he? There was nothing to compare its sanity to.  
  
The sinking feeling that what the animal had said was true started down near the back of his throat and worked its way downward, settling in his stomach. What if this was merely a place where they mixed and easy baked your DNA and you were left to look like leftover casserole or melted GI Joes?  
  
Or maybe the beast had been insane and was merely babbling on and on in a delusional state of mind. Then there would be no need for a large security program to guard their prisoners. The inmates would be trapped within themselves and only the decidedly insane would want to get in; only a Manticore-made product would be *able* to get in.  
  
It is like baiting a trap with cheese for the mice. We are the cheese.  
  
here we are now  
entertain us  
  
Doors. They went through four doors. Shouldn't the next one be the entryway to the barracks? Krit looked down at the dried blood on his hands and torso, then at the knife he was holding. He had wiped it clean on his pant-legs but he could see streaks of dried blood on it. Well, they hadn't wasted any bullets and they had managed to find a several keycards in his pocket, each labeled in numerical order from eight to fourteen.  
  
i feel stupid   
and contagious  
  
There was the door. It looked as if it had about a dozen locks on it -- were they missing any keycards? Zack did a quick count as his heart started pounding heavily in his chest with anger at his stupidity if he hadn't all of the keycards. Not that it looked as if they couldn't blast the door away -- it looked to be there mainly to keep the chimeras in -- but it would draw attention.  
  
here we are now  
entertain us  
  
Which card to use in which lock? Seana went up to each of the locks in turn and glanced at them. Written carefully on each of them was a letter. There was no apparent order in which the letters were written. She glanced at Zack, unsure on how to proceed. C U I N O R A. What on   
Earth did it mean?  
  
a mulatto  
an albino  
  
Syl stared at the locks. There was something there that she wasn't seeing. What was it? She looked at the letters again, certain that there was a meaning to the order. Was it a word that was scrambled? If she could only find the correct way to arrange the letters into a word she would be able to open the door.  
  
a mosquito  
my libido  
  
Krit checked the hand grenades he had. He liked big guns and big noises. He was certain that this grenade would make up for the lack of big gun-ness with the noise it was going to make. He was ready to prep a grenade as soon as Zack told him to. Personally, he had no idea what the lettering meant and he didn't care. He wanted to blow something up. Surreptitiously, he brought a hand up to his mouth and wiped the bloody fingers on his lips.  
  
a denial  
a denial  
  
It wasn't an English word. Zack was almost certain that it wasn't an English word. They had already wasted approximately fifteen seconds staring at this door. Idiotic. He should just -- wait.  
  
o-c-ho  
n-u-eve  
d-i-ez  
o-n-ce  
d-o-ce  
t-r-ece  
c-a-torce  
  
Spanish. It was writing in Spanish, using the second letter of the numbers. How silly of them -- it was in order. The obvious answer had seemed to easy and now Zack wanted to hit himself and yell and scream and punish himself. However, now was not the time.  
  
a denial  
a denial  
  
Logan and Cindy watched the computer screen with rapt attention. There was a problem, or there wouldn't be the hold-up at the door. What Logan wouldn't give for an inside view of each and every Manticore's thoughts at that moment, as they were paused. After about seventeen seconds of almost no movement from them, Logan was ready to speak until Zack beat him to it.  
  
"Move," he ordered. Krit, Syl, and Seana backed up and out of Zack's view screen. Logan and Original Cindy both jumped inwardly. It was one of the few vocal commands Zack had given that night. The door came closer on the screen as Zack strode forward and swiped each of the cards in order. "Translate the numbers into Spanish and take the second letter."  
  
Logan's view of Zack's IQ went up several hundred notches.  
  
The door opened quietly and slowly, the image faltering a few seconds while it was doing that. Logan made the view screens smaller and opened up the program that was running his satellite hack in the background. Crap; they had found the hack.  
  
"Big Brother is trying to watch."  
  
a denial  
a denial  
  
The Manticores moved with renewed energy. From inside each of barracks that they passed on their way toward Max's cell number, they heard muffled moans and undistinguishable words. As they came into view, several unidentifiable animals threw themselves at whatever was serving as their windows and howled.  
  
Three more cells. Three more cells. That one sounded as banshee must have sounded. Krit wondered if Manticore was experimenting with recreating fabled monsters.  
  
Two more cells. Good God, that one in there looked like another child. It looked like a young boy and it most certainly looked human. Seana wondered if he had eyes in the back of his head or something else equally interesting.  
  
One more cell. There was somebody just staring out of the window on the door into the barracks corridor. It was disturbing, the way the eyes didn't blink. Syl turned and watched for a few moments, never breaking eye contact.  
  
This was Max's cell. Zack stepped up to it and typed the command to open it. The door unlocked and they stepped into the room.  
  
Max wasn't there.  
  
a denial  
a denial  
  
From seven places came a cry: in a forlorn whisper; an anguished moan; a pitiful and defeated tone, "Logan."  
  
a denial . . . 


End file.
